The Winter Games have begun…
I’m the life of the party. A little loud and some buzz kills might say obnoxious, but if you’re around me I guarantee you’ll have a good time.
Unless your name is Demi Harrison.
If that’s the case, you’d act like I’m the devil incarnate and go out of your way to avoid me. Which makes zero sense because at the last Olympic Games I rocked her world.
Whatever though. I need to concentrate on winning gold anyway. I was at the top of the standings coming into the games, but since arriving in Korea I’ve lost my edge.
I was never one for superstitions, but I can’t deny that there’s only one difference between my previous medal winning games, and these ones—her.
I’ve pulled off amazing feats in the past, but getting Demi to agree to sleep with me throughout the games might require divine intervention.
A sexy SECOND CHANCE romcom standalone in the Bedroom Game Series.
“What was that?” Demi asks, unzipping her coat.
I lay back down on the bed. “Nothing. I'm here to pay my debt.”
She smiles, the one where her entire mouth opens and shows all her white teeth. The one I don’t get to see nearly enough.
“Yeah, sorry, I was just getting off the hill when you texted me. I have to shower quick. My mom, ugh, she just won't let me rest for a moment.”
“Pushing you, huh?” Guessing that we won't be getting down and dirty under the sheets for a while, I sit up and rest my back on her headboard.
She hangs up her jacket and then bends over to take off her boots. God, her ass is on point.
“She expects perfection, you know? Like I get it that she medaled in three Classics and that she's an excellent skier, but I have coaches. Coaches that are a hell of a lot more patient with me.”
Off go her socks, and then her shirt.
I sit back admiring the strip show she's giving me without her realizing.
Her thumbs hook into her yoga pants. “I mean, does she think I'm out there trying to fuck up? I'm flying down a hill at seventy miles per hour. I want to say yes, I did that move so I could straddle the line between paralyzation or death. UGH!” She stands there in only her bra and panties. A matching blue set that makes my dick twitch in my pants.
“Your mom just wants you to do well.”
She looks me directly in the eyes, her two hands reaching behind her back and then the blue fabric glides down her arms until she throws it into her hamper. “For her or me?”
Her nipples are hard and ready for me, and my mouth salivates, wanting so badly to lick the budded peaks.
“You. I'm sure it's for you,” I say when she doesn’t respond.
She shakes her head, her hands sliding her panties down as she steps out of them, throwing them to join her other dirty clothes.
“Come here.” I hold my hand out for her.
She takes the elastic out of her hair, the long reddish strands falling over her freckled shoulders.
“I'm dirty and I probably smell.”
I grab hold of her hand and yank her to me.
“Did you really think you could strip in front of me and I'd just sit here and wait for you to shower?”
Her million-dollar smile warms her face. “You could join me.”
“I was wondering when you'd ask.”